


I'm A Man Who's Got Very Specific Taste

by patdkitten



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Harry, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Famous Harry, M/M, Non-Famous Louis, Omega Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 13:42:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7847308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patdkitten/pseuds/patdkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Birth control is getting expensive,” Louis repeats aloud to himself, focused on the medical bill he's just opened as he blindly locks back up his mailbox. “I could just stick with suppressants and condoms.” He continued, muttering to himself as he folded the bill back up. “It's not like I have a boyfriend or a mate or anything like that to merit continuing taking them.”</p><p>“Do you normally announce your sex life in front of the mailboxes?” The voice is slow and deep and makes Louis immediately think of warm cocoa. He also doesn't know the speaker, and he's pretty sure that he knows <i>everyone</i> in the building. “Is that like, a thing in this building? Because I'd like to know, so I can avoid future awkward conversations.” There's a dramatic pause for effect. "Even if they're as gorgeous as you are.”</p><p>---<br/>There's a strange alpha in the building that Louis calls home and he thinks maybe he'll make a proposition to the alpha. It goes a bit different than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm A Man Who's Got Very Specific Taste

**Author's Note:**

  * For [liyumpeyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/liyumpeyn/gifts).



> Finished this later than I wanted to, despite having it all plotted out. I'm so sorry you had to wait for it!
> 
>  
> 
> Props to the GCs and S for cheerleading.  
> Title from "My Type" by Saint Motel
> 
>  
> 
> For the prompt:  
> #au where harry is this tortured indie artist#and he comes out of nowhere and becomes worldwide over night #and everyone loves him#but no one really /knows/ him it seems #he’s pretty quiet #wears mostly dark clothes#and seems pensive about life #and everyone is fascinated by him #and then one night#at some awards show #harry shows up holding hands with this loud bouncy boy#and everyone is so confused ??? #because here was secretive beautiful dark harry styles#who everyone figured would end up dating some blonde model with too much black makeup#but here is this bright lovely boy #with a high voice and spunky personality#and nobody gets it #bc how on earth do these two work?#but harry treats louis like he’s the fucking sun#and louis looks at harry like he’s his entire world #and you know #it’s funny#because when louis was around #harry got a bit louder and spoke and smiled more#and louis became a bit calmer and less frantic when harry was near #so yeah#maybe they did kinda fit
> 
> I could also add a/b/o if I wanted. I'm not sure I did it justice/did it the way you had in mind, but I hope you still love it!

Birth control is getting expensive.

“Birth control is getting expensive,” Louis repeats aloud to himself, focused on the medical bill he's just opened as he blindly locks back up his mailbox. “I could just stick with suppressants and condoms.” He continued, muttering to himself as he folded the bill back up. “It's not like I have a boyfriend or a mate or anything like that to merit continuing taking them.”

“Do you normally announce your sex life in front of the mailboxes?” The voice is slow and deep and makes Louis immediately think of warm cocoa. He also doesn't know the speaker, and he's pretty sure that he knows _everyone_ in the building. “Is that like, a thing in this building? Because I'd like to know, so I can avoid future awkward conversations.” There's a dramatic pause for effect. "Even if they're as gorgeous as you are."

Louis looks up from his mail because _what_. What even is a statement like that? He definitely doesn't know the young man standing before him, all black clothing and long limbs and bright white teeth in a tanned face with short cropped hair. He feels like he should, though; Louis knows everyone in the building – and everyone's business – and the young man is _definitely_ attractive.

What Louis' saying is, he'd go home with this stranger, have a wild animalistic time and soothe the frayed nerves that are an independent omega. He can't smell if the stranger's an alpha, not that that matters to him because he only needs an alpha during his heats and he's not due one for another couple of weeks. He's made due with a beta a few times, although they've been pretty sad encounters in his life. An alpha knows how to do things. More or less.

“Do you normally eavesdrop on people's sex lives?” Louis returns tartly, cocking a hip and drops his gaze down to stuff the bill back into the envelope. Through his lashes, he can see the stranger's nostrils flare as the action sets off Louis' own distinct omega scent. So he's an alpha then, and as interested in Louis as Louis is in him. Good to know; maybe he could get this newcomer's number and see if they could be mutually beneficial to each other.

The thought makes Louis a bit wet, not enough to cause him to make a mess of his briefs, but enough to be noticeable to an alpha. And it's _definitely_ noticeable to _this_ alpha because the stranger shakes himself as he steps around Louis to reach his own mailbox and open it, clearly dismissing both Louis and his question.

“Hey, you're in the flat directly below mine.” Louis taps the opened door with his medical bill cheekily, and the alpha's green eyes flicker up to him as the alpha organizes his own mail. “You should come up some time. Have a go.”

There's another flash of white teeth, and Louis wants to know where this alpha gets his teeth cleaned because _damn_. Louis would like to make an appointment, stat. “Is the reason you don't have a boyfriend or anything more serious because you're an omega that sleeps around?”

Louis taps his bill against the alpha's mailbox door again, face screwing up. “I'm a feminist, thanks much. I will not have your slut-shaming nonsense just because you overheard me complain about birth control being expensive.”

The stranger smiles, catching Louis' wrist before he can hit him with the bill again. “I wasn't slut-shaming. I might be an alpha, but I absolutely respect an omega who makes choices for themselves and not because society demands it.” His green eyes flicker down to the bill Louis' still brandishing, hand still enclosed around Louis' wrist like it belongs there. “I'll see you around then, Louis.”

He lets him go, walking out the front door with strong, purposeful strides. Louis watches him go, scrunching up his nose. God, but he kinda wants to knock the alpha down and have his way with him. All consenting parties, of course.

Maybe he just needs to get laid, or his omega hormones checked out. If he's _this_ horny a few weeks out from his heat, there might be an imbalance somewhere.

His birth control is still too expensive, though.

He taps the bill, settled on top of the rest of his and his roommates' mail, against his hand as he enters the lift and hits the button for his floor. He's got options, after all, other choices he could discuss with his doctor. Choices that could even reduce his heats from monthly to once a year, if that. Definitely wouldn't have to worry about picking up random alphas or a lack of a boyfriend or mate if he doesn't have regular heats, right?

He's so caught up in his thoughts that it isn't until he's unlocking the door to his flat that he realises: he never got the strange alpha's name.

“Bloody fucking hell.”

 

 

Although he'd had plans to show up at the strange alpha's flat before then, to introduce himself properly and maybe even suggest a proposition if the alpha seems interested, it takes Louis exactly three weeks – a couple days before his heat, in fact – to knock on the man's door. He feels a bit awkward as it takes a lifetime for the door to swing open, feels like maybe he should've just stayed away or maybe he should've come sooner.

But the door finally swings open to...

Someone not the alpha Louis was expecting. The jovial ginger in front of him looks vaguely familiar – in a “I'm fairly certain I've seen this bloke in one of the magazines Sophia's gotten” sort of way - but he can't immediately place him. It also makes him wonder if maybe he's got the wrong flat.

“Can I help you then, mate?” The ginger asks, happily smiling at Louis.

Louis feels a bit out of his depth for once, but he swallows it down. “I was, um...” He fumbles around a bit, trying to think of a reason that isn't sexual attraction, before he finally blurts out, “I think I've got the wrong flat. Nevermind.”

He's about to scurry away, hide his shame away in his room a floor above, when the ginger – whose gender Louis can't identify but thinks might be beta – turns toward the flat to call, “Hey, Haz, that little omega you told me about finally showed up on your welcome mat.”

“I'm not little, what the fuck,” Louis begins, but his protest trails off as the alpha he'd come to see comes out of the kitchen wearing what looks like _just_ an apron. And suddenly, Louis is _incredibly_ embarrassed; just because the stranger was an alpha and a bit flirty with Louis didn't mean he was unattached. Maybe the ginger who opened the door is really this man's mate, and that's why Louis can't smell anything on him. “Oh, god, I've interrupted something, haven't I?”

The ginger bursts out laughing, thumping Louis on the back and pulling him into the flat. “You haven't interrupted anything, mysterious omega. In fact, Harry, your omega can take my place.” He pats Louis' back again as Louis tries to drum up a protest and grabs a guitar case before leaving. The door shuts firmly behind him, closing both Louis and the strange alpha from the rest of the world.

“He's not _my_ omega, Ed!” The alpha, Harry, yells after the man, getting only a cackle from the hallway. He makes a frustrated sound – Louis can definitely relate – before he turns his attention toward Louis. “I'm sorry. You don't have to stay for dinner if you don't want to.”

And... what? What's going on? What alternate universe full of romantic stereotypes and tropes has Louis fallen into? He swallows and decides to focus on one thing at a time. Well, something that _isn't_ the fact the alpha – Harry, he needs to remember that – is still seemingly only wearing that apron. And is right fit in a way that has Louis' omega rolling over itself like it doesn't know if it wants to bear its throat to this omega or assume the position.

Right. Not focusing on that.

He pulls himself together, silently telling his omega to pull itself together because their heat might be close but not _that_ close. They've got a couple days; they can _deal_.

“You were making dinner then?” He finally latches onto a topic of discussion, feeling it's the easiest option all things considered. “Is that why you're only in just the apron then?”

Harry glances down, like he'd forgotten how he was dressed, before he bursts out laughing. “No! Well, the fact I was cooking is why I'm in an apron.” He shifts the apron to show that he's in a pair of boxer briefs that leave very little to Louis' brain, and Louis' omega likes what it sees more than any other alpha he's ever seen. “I'm also, ahhh....” He trails off, clearing his throat. “I've also got a day or two before my rut starts, and I'm starting to get hot.”

He smiles a bit sheepishly at Louis, and _goddammit he is not supposed to be this endeared with someone he's met once_. Even if he wouldn't mind sleeping with the alpha. “I'm only mentioning it because I eavesdropped on that conversation about your birth control. Did you get that resolved then?” The smile gets less sheepish and more warm. “About it being too expensive, I mean.”

He hasn't, is the thing. He's also pushed back going to his GP to discuss other options, because he doesn't really want to know that the other options are _more_ expensive, even though he'd intended on going. He considers not answering the question, letting it sit awkwardly in the air between them, before he decides that they've already discussed his birth control – and his considering going off it, even if it was just him talking to himself and this alpha overhearing him – and it's not a big deal to discuss his sex life with the alpha he was already planning on discussing a proposition with. If Harry was interested, and considering that Harry's making small talk about Louis' sex habits, maybe he is?

“Ahhhh, no.” Louis rubs his nose, feeling about as sheepish as Harry had looked moments before. He takes a moment to compose himself, gaze drifting around the flat to notice that Harry's aesthetic seems to be soft oceanic. The furniture is leather, but plush enough to sink in comfortably, with a seafoam green afghan thrown over the back of the couch and propped into place with pale blue, white and green throw pillows. “I never made an appointment to go, and they're getting expensive on a teacher's salary through my GP. I know there's other options, but...”

Harry smiles understandingly, and Louis wonders how an alpha could possibly understand how an omega's birth control works. Unless he _did_ have a mate, but that other man, Ed, had called _Louis_ Harry's omega, which. He wouldn't have if Harry _did_ have a mate, right?

Right.

“No rich alphas since I ran into you by the mailboxes then?” Harry teases, voice low and warm, and Louis would be lying if he said it didn't do _things_ his omega approves of. _Wholeheartedly_ approves of.

“Got it in one.” Louis' gaze is drawn toward the kitchen when there's a ding from that direction.

It startles Harry as well. “Ahh, that'll be the garlic bread then.” He waves a hand to a dining room table set for two people, a small spray of flowers and a couple candles between the two plates. Louis remembers the other man and wonders if that second plate would've been his if Louis hadn't shown up. “If you're not leaving, how about you take a seat, yeah? You're not allergic to seafood, are you?”

Louis' about to say no, thinks that maybe he should reverse his engines – omega or not – right back out of here. Instead, though, he finds himself following Harry toward the table, and sitting himself in the chair that Harry pulls out for him. “I love seafood.”

A bottle of rosé wine sits on the table and Louis finds himself distracted with it as Harry heads back into the kitchen to retrieve the garlic bread in question, reading the label. It's from a label he's heard of, but could never afford on his meagre teacher's salary. He's reminded once again of the ginger man who'd left and wondering if he butted in on what should've been a romantic dinner.

He's worrying his lower lip, thumb tracing the label as Harry returns laden with two plates filled with the most heavenly smelling pasta he's ever seen. Oh _god_ , he must've taken the place of Harry's date.

There must be a panicked look on his face, revealing his thoughts, because Harry grins as he sets one of the plates in front of him. “To answer your earlier question, you didn't interrupt anything but a celebration.” He settles into the other seat with the other plate and expertly opens the bottle of wine, handing Louis a glass with a warm smile. “I adore Ed, but I think you're more attractive company.”

Okay. _Okay_. Louis absolutely came here to offer Harry a proposition. Harry's not supposed to be propositioning _him_. That's not how being a feminist omega works!

Although, being a feminist does mean that it's not rude of Louis to let Harry lead if he wants to.... Equals and all that. Two can play this game.

Louis takes a sip of the wine, giving Harry a coy and sassy smile. “Are you trying to hit on me?”

Harry grins back, just as coy and just as sassy, as he takes a bite of garlic bread and saluting Louis with the slice. “Nothing romantic or hitting on a person about garlic bread.”

It's a stupid comeback, but. It makes Louis burst out laughing. It also makes him feel less awkward and less like he's interrupted a romantic dinner, which he supposes was Harry's intention with the wisecrack. It's especially obvious when his laugh is echoed by a laugh from Harry, a full-bodied deep laugh that sends Louis' omega squirming deliciously again.

“So what are we celebrating then?” He asks finally, one hand brushing away tears of laughter as the other twirls pasta onto his fork. He's pretty sure the seafood in this linguine's sauce is crab, judging by the smell, and it's making his mouth water.

Harry takes a sip of his wine, as if drawing out the silence deliberately to make his announcement that more impactful. “I just got nominated for some pretty big awards.” He tips the wine glass toward the door, and despite himself, Louis' gaze drops to the fingers holding the stem elegantly. “The bloke who you _just_ missed is Ed Sheeran himself, delivering the good news in person.” He grinned.

“I was wondering why he looked familiar, but I couldn't place him.” Louis admits, taking another bite. He can't help himself; now that he's had a taste of Harry's cooking, he can't stop eating it. He just hopes he doesn't make a fool of himself. “My roommate Sophia's got a ton of magazines with his face plastered on 'em. Some musician bloke, yeah?”

Harry grins wider, and _damn_. He's got dimples that Louis wants to touch. To be fair, Harry's sitting across from Louis in just his boxer briefs: an alpha just before his rut in front of an omega just before _his_ heat. “Yeah, just some musician bloke. _I'm_ some musician bloke, hence the awards I'm nominated for.”

“That's cool, though.” Louis nods, and the conversation dies for a time. The only sounds are the sounds of their chewing, and the clink of silverware. It should feel awkward, because it _is_ a celebration of Harry's awards, but. Louis doesn't know why, but the silence is companionable. It makes his omega purr in a way it only does when he's getting fucked well in his heats, and he wonders if this is how an omega feels when they choose their mate.

It's a very sobering thought.

“You know,” Louis says in the tail end of that thought, wanting to dismiss it because that's getting ahead of himself and ahead of whatever it is is going on between them. “My heat's coming up. I've been around alphas in rut before.” He waves his fork around, trying to make it sound like it's no big deal. He's not going to start slut-shaming himself, after all. “And obviously, I've had alphas help me through some of my heats.”

“But never your heat around an alpha in rut?” Harry smiles across the table at him, and Louis wonders if Harry's alpha senses are better than Louis' own omega ones. His face must register some shock over it because Harry reaches across the table to stroke the back of Louis' hand with two fingers. It's a startling combination of comforting and erotic, and _damn_ if it doesn't make Louis wet. “Don't worry, I think it's only more obvious to me because I'm close to my rut.”

His fingers slide under Louis', turning his hand over and tracing the lines of Louis' palm. This is far more erotic than the previous action, and Louis can't help the squirm when it makes him wetter. Harry's eyes are the darkest shade of green that Louis' ever seen as Harry's nostrils flare with the scent, and Harry's voice is huskier than before when he speaks again.

“I've never been around an omega close to their heat when I was close to my rut, so that makes two of us.”

Louis swallows, mouth dry. The thing is, he's getting turned on more in his life than he's ever been before, and he's not sure if it's because Harry's rut is coming up combined with his heat, or if it's because the delicately erotic tracing of his palm is the most seductive thing he's ever felt.

He moistens his lips, swallowing again and trying to find his voice. When he finds it again, it's filled with so much desire it takes a moment to realise it's his. “You know, when I first saw you, I was wondering if we could come to some mutual agreement. For...”

“Situations like these?” Harry's voice echoes Louis' desire, and it makes Louis wonder if maybe he wasn't the _only_ one to consider a mutual agreement. His gaze flickers to everything between them briefly, and for a moment, Louis thinks that Harry's just going to swipe it all to the floor.

Instead, though, he pulls his hand away from Louis' and gets to his feet before clearing the table of everything. Louis' a bit worried at the change in Harry's attitude as he watches him move everything to the kitchen, wondering if he'd said something off. But then, once everything's off the table, Harry comes back and picks Louis up to deposit him on the table.

“Thought it was time for dessert.” Harry's teeth are a bright flash in the candlelight, but then he's moving in for a kiss and oh. _Oh_.

It's been a while since Louis' kissed anyone, but he doesn't remember it tasting like a cross between the fruity dry rosé, the creaminess of the crab sauce, and yes, the garlic of the garlic bread. As Harry's hands settle possessively on Louis' hips and his tongue demands impatient entrance of Louis' mouth, Louis' dimly aware that at some point – probably during the companionable silence – the dinner moved from celebration to romantic.

He can't say he's bothered.

“You made dessert?” He asks, voice wavering when they finally come up for air. This close to Harry, he can feel the feverish heat of the alpha's skin, and knows that in a few more days, his skin will take on that same feverish heat.

“No.” Harry tilts Louis' chin up, exposing the line of his throat and kisses the pulse point there. For the first time, Louis' omega whines at that, wanting teeth against that same spot. Wants Harry to claim him, keep him all for himself. His omega's _never_ wanted that from an alpha before, even though it's wanted _plenty_ from all the other alphas Louis' been with, and Louis hopes his omega isn't getting ahead of itself.

He has, after all, only officially met Harry. He doesn't want to be mated to him. _Yet_.

“Thought you were going to be dessert,” Harry whispers against Louis' neck as his teeth lightly graze Louis' pulse point. Not a complaint to be had _there_.

 

 

Later, much later, they're sprawled out in Harry's incredibly soft, incredibly comfortable and in _credibly_ plush bed. Louis' pretty sure it's secretly a cloud, that this bed is secretly heaven, but that _might_ be the multiple – multiple! - orgasms Harry coaxed of him both on the dining room table and this bed talking. He's never had multiple orgasms before, not outside of his heats.

“Do you do encores?” Louis dreamily asks, feeling himself start to drift off between said multiple orgasms and the soothing, and strangely erotic, motion Harry's doing. It's the same thing he'd done earlier when they were eating, just trailing his long fingers along Louis' skin whisperlike, but it makes Louis feel even more like a well tuned instrument.

Harry's fingers travel along the bumps and dips of Louis' spine to lightly trace the bite mark he'd left earlier. Louis doesn't know what it looks like, is pretty sure it's not a mating mark, but judging by the quietly smug look on the alpha's face, he's going to have to figure out how to cover it up later.

“I'm very attentive to my lovers.” The alpha finally says, and the smugness is equally obvious in his voice. “Not so much during my ruts because I lose my mind. But I happen to like doing encores if they're omegas as receptive as you are.”

Louis decides that doesn't require a response beyond a hum, and it makes Harry sleepily chuckle. The sound fades after a few minutes into the same companionable silence from dinner, and it's. Well, it's _perfect_ , and even in his current state of sleepy bliss, Louis wants more of this. His blissed out omega agrees, purring contently in the presence of its chosen alpha.

“Hey,” Harry whispers a few minutes later, when Louis' just about to succumb to sleep. “That awards show. I get a plus one.” His fingers ghost along Louis' spine once more, settling into the dip of the omega's back. “I know we're not dating or anything, but. If you'd like to go?” He pauses like he's letting Louis consider it. “I'll even pay for your birth control.”

Louis sleepily chuckles. “I'd be happy with regular sex like this.”

“Is that a yes then?”  
Louis sleepily hums an affirmative. “If life with you is like this, I might even let you mate me.”

He falls asleep before Harry can respond, but he _thinks_ he hears the alpha whisper, “Isn't that the dream.”

 

 

Louis can see cameras flashing, capturing other famous musicians in perfect slivers of time, and he's nervous as hell. He doesn't have to wonder if Harry can smell his nervousness, because Harry's large warm hand soon encloses over his knee and rubbing his thigh soothingly.

“Just be your lovely, bouncy self, yeah?” Harry's voice is equally warm, even if his eyes are trained on the red carpet that awaits outside the limo door and not Louis. “They're all expecting some blonde supermodel with dark cat eyes and blood red lipstick with a serious expression on my arm. And they'll see you instead, which is so, _so_ much better.” His gaze turns away from the red carpet and the cameras to look at Louis with a heated smile. That smile holds dark promise in it: that after they get through this award show, Louis' going to be taken home and spread out on their bed. They might be drunk on alcohol then, and maybe even a win or two on Harry's part.

Louis can't imagine anything better. Except maybe canceling his birth control altogether, seeing as he's got a rockstar boyfriend who can take care of him.

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me after the reveal :)


End file.
